


Don't

by SashMumbles



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Airports, Army, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gallavich, Ian's back from the Army, Injured Ian, M/M, Mickey Angst, Mickey Uses His Words, POV Mickey, Reunion, Sad Mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 03:43:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3159920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SashMumbles/pseuds/SashMumbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mickey gets to the airport he checks the lit up boards at International Arrivals just to be sure he is on time. </p><p>Estimated Arrival 17:00, it reads.</p><p>The bottom right corner of the screen shows the current time</p><p>16:30</p><p>Thirty minutes. </p><p>Thirty minutes till he sees Gallagher again. </p><p>Post 3x12</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't

**Author's Note:**

> If the premiere has your heart as confused as mine is, here is some Gallavich to keep you busy till next week.  
> This is set in a world where everyone is 2 years older- basically when Ian leaves for the army, he signs up as Ian Gallagher and is old enough.

When Mickey gets to the airport he checks the lit up boards at International Arrivals just to be sure he is on time.

 _Estimated Arrival 17:00,_ it reads.

The bottom right corner of the screen shows the current time

_16:30_

Thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes till he sees Gallagher again.

Despite surviving 3 years without the redhead in his life, the thirty minute wait to his arrival seems like more torture than both bullets Mickey had taken for him. Thirty minutes of wondering how broken Gallagher would be. Physical injuries were common in the South Side, heck if you didn't have a messed up face or broken rib at least once by the age of sixteen, it pretty much meant you were the one handing out the beat downs. But war, fuck, that was something else. Mickey knew that bruises and cuts would always heal but an injury in the army was more than just that. Mickey was more afraid of the war managing to break the Gallagher he knew. The one with the laugh that would make him have to try his hardest not to grin and join in. The one with the bright, green eyes which Mickey had to avoid looking at too long - even back when he couldn't even admit to himself how much the redhead mattered to him- because he was sure they’d render him speechless or make him forget how to breathe.

Around him are families with posters and balloons, all clearly waiting for the same plane Gallagher would be on. Looking around at the kids and loved ones of the men in service, Mickey feels out of place. He was a fraud. He had had the opportunity to tell the man he loved to stay, to tell Gallagher how he felt, but he didn't. He was a pussy and he didn't deserve to be amongst the people who probably sent letters and videos to their loved ones as often as possible instead of getting information second hand.

Just as Mickey turns to walk towards the exit, he feels his phone vibrate. Letting out a sigh, he reaches into his pocket and unlocks the screen.

_You better not pussy out of this one too dickhead._

Squeezing the phone a little tighter than necessary, Mickey silently curses his sister and types a reply,

_Mind your own business bitch._

Almost instantaneously his phone vibrates again,

_Just don’t mess up, okay?_

Fuck.

_Okay._

Mickey would be the first to admit that his sister sticks her nose where it shouldn’t be, but sometimes she told him exactly what he needed to hear. With that Mickey turns back towards the huge automatic doors of International Arrivals and makes himself comfortable leaning against a pillar.

Life had been mundane without Ian with only Mickey’s longing for Ian, self-hatred, regret and lodging pieces of mirror into his fist making him feel anything at all. There was also the relief of checking in with Lip every two weeks or so in the first year Ian was gone to confirm that Ian was alive at basic training. Then the real torment had begun. Ian was deployed and the letters only came every two months if they were lucky. The time in between the letters had Mickey bartending on autopilot at The Alibi and spending most nights in the dugout at the baseball field thinking of what could have been. The one thing that _had_ been on his side was Kev needing time to figure out how to run The Alibi and take care of the twins, giving Mickey a job that didn’t remind him of a certain redhead behind the counter all day. He hadn’t left Linda till he had found his replacement though- partially because he had a bit of a soft spot for the single mom and partially because he knew Ian would be proud of him for not just leaving her.

Mickey was actually glad he had Yevgeny and Lana. The kid had grown on him and after bonding with Lana over a particularly strong bottle of Russian vodka the night Ian was deployed, they had coexisted in a mutually appreciated peace. Even Mandy helped out so the little guy didn’t have to spend all day in his carrier behind the bar with Mick keeping an eye on him, while Lana did whatever she did best to bring in her third of the rent.

So it was good that Mandy had taken the kid one scorching summer day when Frank had stumbled into The Alibi proudly announcing that his 2nd born (not true), his own blood (partially true) had been wounded in battle fighting for this here United States of America.

Mickey’s whole world had slowed down.

The dull noise of the flatscreen playing some game the regulars had bets on, the movement of the pathetic fan sitting on top of the bar, the knocking together of pool balls as someone sinks the black ball. Eventually, Frank slapping his fist down on the bar and demanding a drink on the house for his pride and joy’s (really Frank) sacrifice had made Mickey’s world play in real time again. He ran up to Kev ‘s office and said he needed to take the rest of the day and was off in a sprint before he could even get a reply from his employer. 

Running was part of South Side life. Running meant running away from your shitty home. Running meant getting away from trouble. Running meant feeling free. But all Mickey felt when he ran as fast as he could to the Gallagher house that day was apprehension. There was no running from this. Just finding out what happened from someone other than Frank. When he ran into the house, Lip pushed his laptop away and waited for the storm. But instead of screaming about how he had thought that they were on the same team now and how he thought he was in on the fucking Ian Worry Society, Mickey had just run his hand over his face and asked “How bad?”.

Ian had been on patrol when an explosion caught them off guard. He had sustained a high velocity missile wound to the left leg which was operated on and his recovery and health status would determine if he would be sent out again or if he’d be sent back home.

“Pieces of a fucking bomb got blown into his leg in fucking Afghanistan and they’re thinking of sending him back into that hellhole of explosions and tankers?!”

Lip had calmed him down enough to explain that it was most likely that they would send Ian back home since a leg injury would cause lots of tissue damage and that would probably take a while to heal.  As smart as Lip was, he was definitely not the perfect person to reassure a guy and whatever Lip assumed was just that, nothing was guaranteed. “What the fuck will it take to get him back where he belongs??”, Mickey shouted kicking the side of the couch. That got them both picturing a blood soaked redhead and body bags, none of which Mickey was ready to face.

The next month was filled with nightmares of Ian being shot down by a hundred bullets and a limp body with the life drained out of those eyes he loved so much. Eventually he barely slept and when he did it was from passing out from the alcohol he had hoped would wash away every war scenario his mind had conjured up. He was warming up some veggies in a bowl for the kid while running one of those very scenarios through his head, this particular one with Ian wounded and lost with no way of finding help before he bled out, when Lip walked into the kitchen- damn Gallaghers think they can go anywhere.

“So I know you’re probably going to have my head for not telling you sooner, but I have a lot of shit going on too, I got Kev to loan me his van and I convinced my family to wait at home which was almost impossible”

“Just spit it out”

“Ian’s plane lands at O’Hare in an hour and a half”

Lip had then thrown Kev’s keys over to a frozen Mickey and told him he’d watch the kid. Mickey had only hesitated for a second but after Lip had reassured him that he had helped raise 3 of his 4 younger siblings and that Mandy would be back from the diner soon, Mickey was out the door and in Kev’s truck speeding down the I-94 Express Way.

Going over everything in his head as he waits, Mickey realizes that he has actually managed to build a functional life for the past three years, one that Ian could fit right into since he and Lana had finalized their divorce- there had been a few immigration visits but now Lana was a citizen and everything. Terry was even away for life for beating some thugs to death.  Ian could make it a life worth living. That could only happen if Mickey didn’t mess this up. He wishes he could take a smoke to calm his nerves but Lana had made him quit because of the kid and she’d have his head if he started again.

What seemed like days later, the word LANDED flashes next to Ian’s flight number on the board. There is a sudden buzz of excitement around him, kids stand to hold up their glitter and koki filled posters and spouses and family huddle close together. Mickey feels even more nervous (how was that even possible??) and stands a bit straighter, focusing on the automatic doors that Ian would come through.

When the first man in camo exits through the doors, he allows the awaiting crowd to see a line of camo wearing men behind him. Mickey finds himself contemplating how far he would make it if he slipped through the doors if it meant seeing Ian sooner. He feels like his heart is being squeezed by his ribs as it attempts to jump out of his chest.

Mickey spots Ian before he is discovered, he watches as Ian limps towards the doors, a duffel bag on one shoulder and a crutch under the other. When Ian steps through the automatic doors, Mickey takes time to take in all of him. His hair is a fiery red and despite the camo clothing hiding his body, Mickey can tell that Gallagher would totally kick his ass now. After Ian looks around, probably looking for his family, his eyes stop and his gaze becomes fixed on a pair of crystal blue eyes, now also locked with his. Mickey doesn't even decide to move, it’s as though his heart is a puppeteer with strings attached to his feet.

They never break the eye contact, not when Mickey pushes though a few people, not when he gets to the little barrier, not even when he jumps over said barrier. The last few steps though, that was all Mickey. Once he was a few feet away from Gallagher and could see a few scratches on his pale face, he needed get closer. Tentatively, he takes the final steps to get him face to face with the redhead. Ian’s expression is still caught between surprised, confused and could that be a tinge of happiness in his eyes? Mickey isn’t sure but he knows what he has to do. He takes a deep breath.

“Don’t…”

He can do this.

“Don’t you ever leave me again Ian.”

The emotion in Mickey’s voice causes a few tears well up in Ian’s eyes, he drops his duffel bag so he can reach forward and grab the back of Mickey’s neck. Mickey lets out a sigh of relief when Ian’s skin touches his and lets Ian pull him into a kiss that they both so desperately needed. Mickey had never believed that _feeling electricity_ shit Mandy went on about, but he swears he feels a zap when their lips touch. Mickey places his hand on Ian’s lower back and steps even closer so their chests touch. It had been three years since that kiss before the wedding so Mickey had expected it to feel different, and it does, this kiss is more gentle than the two they had shared before, no rush, no house to swipe clean, no wedding to get to, no Terry to hunt them down, this kiss was new. After a few seconds, Ian lets out a small grunt and tightens his grip on Mickey’s neck which makes the gentle kiss turn into more. Ian swipes his tongue across Mickey’s lower lip, which elicits a hum from Mickey as he lets Ian reacquaint himself with his tongue. 

They were in their own world, just the two of them. So when they hear a curious “Mommy, why are the two men kissing like you and Daddy when Daddy left?”, they both stop and realise where they are as blood rushes to their cheeks. The little boy is tugging at his Mum’s sweater and is looking up expectantly. The woman looks at Ian and Mickey with a blush of her own and replies, “They’re kissing because they love each other like Mommy and Daddy honey”. Flustered, Mickey smiles back at the kid as he reaches down for the duffel bag and shoulders it before he and Ian make their way away from the little family. They’re just past the pillar when Mickey feels Ian’s long fingers intertwine with his, giving his hand a small squeeze. Mickey looks up at Ian’s earnest face,

“I’m not leaving you Mick”

Mickey smiles and squeezes back.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it. Tell me what you think?
> 
> Remember, together <3
> 
> P.S. "He came out!!"


End file.
